They All Lived Story 50: Pieces
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: Apr-Aug 1969. While Edward works on his novel and teaches alchemy, and life is good for most of the family, an unexpected horror from the past threatens Tore's happiness.  Things continue to run less-than-smoothly for the Breda family.
1. Chapter 1

**April 17****th****, 1969**

"So are you ready to go to dinner?" Cal asked his beautiful wife as he watched her do her usual pre-outing self-flirtation in the mirror. Or so he tended to think of it. It always came before the criticism.

"Almost," Alyse assured him, tilting her head slightly as she put on her other earring.

She looked gorgeous – not that she ever looked otherwise to him – in a flowy forget-me-not blue dress that hugged and hung ever so nicely on each of her curves. Of course, Cal was sure that was why she was still standing in front of the mirror. It had been just like this when she was expecting Gloria.

Cal slipped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Give it up, 'Lyse," he grinned into her hair. "You look great, and everyone we're going to dinner with already knows you're pregnant." Eight weeks pregnant…with baby number two. If Gloria hadn't already proven otherwise, Cal would have been worried about having another kid, but his daughter was such a little joy. His sixteen month old baby girl had assuaged his fears that any kid out of his loins was going to be a little hellion. Even when she was crying and smelly, Cal thought Gloria was adorable. Of course, he was almost definitely biased.

Their little_ darling _was already downstairs with her favorite babysitter, Great-Grandma Gracia.

Alyse leaned back into him, her reflection smiling out of the mirror. "You're right," she agreed, though with a note of regret. "You're sure this dress is all right?"

Cal gave her a gentle squeeze and nibbled her ear. "All right enough I'd rather take you back out of it," he chuckled, pressed up against her back.

"Isn't that how I ended up like this in the first place?" Alyse glanced over her shoulder at him.

"Which means there's no worries now," Cal laughed. "How am I supposed to be able to resist you?"

"By remembering that my grandmother is downstairs," Alyse replied.

"Cruel, but true," Cal eased up his grip. She was right. The last thing he wanted was to leave Gracia waiting downstairs with Gloria when she was kind enough to watch the kid this evening. "But when we get home… you're mine."

"Sometime I will find evidence that you think about something other than sex," Alyse sighed. "Hopefully before we have half a dozen kids."

Cal paled slightly. "Yeah… right." One was great, two he was getting used to the idea. More than that…

"I'm teasing you." Alyse turned around in his arms, smirking. "Now let's go."

Downstairs, the phone rang. A moment later Cal heard Gracia pick up with a proper "Fischer residence."

"I guess we should see who that is too." Cal offered Alyse his arm and they headed downstairs.

Gracia was already hanging up when they arrived. "That was Tore," she said when she saw them. "Apparently Dare is feeling under the weather, so he's staying home."

Cal felt a twinge of disappointment, but he couldn't say he didn't understand. If Gloria had even a sniffle he felt guilty going to work. Still, it was a shame Tore couldn't join them on his own birthday. "I'm sorry to hear it. Did he say what was wrong?"

"Just a mild fever," Gracia smiled reassuringly. "But he did sound pretty miserable."

"Hopefully he's better in the morning," Alyse commented sympathetically.

"I'm sure he will," Gracia nodded. "Now you should both get out of here and enjoy yourselves. We'll have a lovely night here, won't we?" She turned back to Gloria, who was playing with dolls on the floor.

Gloria giggled.

"Let's go," he told Alyse quietly. While his daughter was happy was the best time to go. Otherwise, her tears would never let him leave.

**April 18****th****, 1969  
><strong>

Dare was not better in the morning. Tore was feeling pretty run down himself by the time the sun peaked over the horizon. Not that he could see it. The day dawned full of heavy storm clouds, and they let burst with dumping rain about the time Tore should have been making breakfast and heading to work.

Except that he was doing neither. It had been a sleepless night for him and Dare both. Tore was beginning to feel like it was all old hat dealing with fevers and his son. But the bathing hadn't brought it down, and nothing he tried to feed Dare or give him to drink stayed down. Tore gave up on trying to make the toddler eat, but he kept trying to get water in him.

The fever had spiked around two in the morning, and it hadn't dropped. Uncomfortable and fussy, Dare had cried and whimpered through the night, barely using any of his growing vocabulary.

Tore also hadn't been able to put him down in three hours. He lay on the couch; feeling run over, with Dare snuggled against him, whimpering fitfully, hot to the touch despite the cool cloth on his forehead.

This was the worst the poor kid had had since Tore had brought him home. "You want any?" he offered a bottle of water to his son.

Dare shook his head. "Nuh uh…" then seemed to regret it. He looked slightly green, and then – once again – spat up what little had been in his stomach all over the towel Tore had draped on himself after having changed three shirts the night before.

This was bad. It wasn't getting better, it was just getting worse. Tore managed to get the thermometer back under Dare's arm. He didn't struggle. _What's wrong with you little guy? _Tore had already decided that if the fever went up anymore, he was calling someone and taking Dare to the hospital.

The numbers decided it. 104.2. Tore stood up and, still cradling his son who cried out at being moved – and was much harder to cradle than he had been a year ago – crossed to the phone and dialed. It was a weekday but it was early enough, he could hope someone was home.

There was no answer at Ethan and Lia's, or at Cal and Alyse's. Of course, they both dropped the little ones off before work, and it was just about that time. Normally, Tore would have seen them there. He called over to Alphonse and Elicia's house.

"Hello?"

"Hi Gracia," Tore swallowed, grateful to have reached someone. "Is anyone still home with a car? Dare's still sick and I want to get him looked at."

"I'm sorry," Gracia apologized, sounding immediately concerned. "But it's just me and the little ones. Everyone else has gone out."

Tore cursed in his mind, but not out of his mouth. Insulting Gracia was not a good idea. "Thanks. I'm sure I'll find someone."

But he found he was having no luck. Who might be in on a day like today? He could call someone's office if he had to, but he didn't know most of the numbers.

Tore flipped through his little phone booklet where he wrote his numbers, working his way to the end.

Valentino, Charisa.

Well, it couldn't hurt, though Tore was almost certain Charisa would have already gone in to work at the Assembly building.

As Tore started dialing, Dare started wailing.

"Hello?" a tired voice came over the phone.

She was home! "Hey, Charisa, I'm sorry to call like this," Tore blurted out. "But I can't find anyone with a car and Dare's been sick all night. I need to get him over to the hospital to get looked at. Do you think you could maybe drop us off on your way in?"

There was a moment of quiet. "I'll be over in a few minutes." Then Charisa hung up.

Tore hoped he hadn't also woken Raul. But then, Charisa's husband was a pretty early riser. He was sure Charisa had mentioned it at some point.

Perhaps, he should get dressed.

Tore had just changed from boxers and a t-shirt to pants and a pull-over sweater, and gotten Dare into his umpteenth clean outfit in fewer hours when he heard a knock. "Tore, it's me."

"Thanks so much for coming," Tore apologized again as he opened the door. Charisa stood there in jeans and a light jacket. "Not going to work this morning?"

"I had a bit of a headache, so I took the morning off," Charisa admitted.

And he'd called her out of bed. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," she smiled tiredly. "It's not all that bad. Besides, Dare is more important isn't he? Let's go."

Tore headed downstairs, lugged the car seat he kept in the apartment for catching rides into Charisa's little car while she held Dare for him, and within a minute or two they had pulled away.

Dare whimpered and fussed the entire ride. In the morning light, Tore realized just how bad his son looked. He kept glancing into the back to make sure he was all right.

"He'll be fine," Charisa promised, keeping her eyes on the road.

"I know." But Tore didn't know. Not really. He wished Winry and Edward were in town. Winry always seemed to know exactly what to do with Dare.

"So where's Raul this morning?" Tore tried to be conversational.

"Business trip," Charisa replied. "Don't worry. You only woke me."

Tore had more important things to worry about.

And that worry did not decrease when the doctor at the hospital took one look at Dare and carted him off to pull blood and run tests. Tore refused to be separated from him. "What do you think is wrong?" he asked the scowling pediatrician.

"I'm not sure," Dr. Longue shook his head. "Hopefully we'll find something conclusive quickly."

So they waited. Quickly apparently meant in an hour or so, because that was how long Tore and Charisa sat with Dare in a hospital room waiting for a response.

"You don't have to stay," Tore pointed out after a while.

"I'm not leaving you boys here alone," Charisa replied flatly. "Not unless you want me to leave."

"No, of course not," Tore shook his head. He felt better having someone there, especially Charisa. However awkward dealing with her husband was, he was grateful for her presence, and her friendship. "I just don't want you to feel put out or anything."

"Well I don't," Charisa assured him. "And sitting in waiting rooms by yourself is the worst. Do you want a cup of coffee or something?"

Tore had forgotten about breakfast. "Sure… thanks."

Charisa smiled and stood up. "Then I'll go get some."

A few minutes after she left, a severe-faced middle aged nurse entered the room. "Mr. Closson."

"Yes?"

She looked around. "We have the test results, but we should wait for your wife."

Tore tried not to feel embarrassed. "She's not my wife," he explained. "She's a friend who gave us a ride over."

"All right then," The nurse nodded. "Dr. Longue will be in shortly." As she spoke she stepped up to the little bed Dare was laid in. "For now, I'm going to give him a shot of antibiotics and hook your son up to a water bag. He's severely dehydrated."

She made it sound like he didn't know that; that it was his fault. Tore bit his tongue. "Thank you." He hoped that that would be the extent of it; something to kill whatever was making his son sick, and water to rehydrate him and help him along. That was all he needed.

He really wished Dr. Longue's face hadn't looked so… long. The Doctor entered a minute later, with Charisa poking her head in just behind him, holding two Styrofoam cups of steaming liquid.

"Mr. Closson," Dr. Longue began. "I am glad you brought Darren in when you did. From the test we have run, he appears to have a disease known as _hemolytia._"

Tore froze. No… no way. "You're joking."

"I assure you I'm not," Longue replied. "I take it you're familiar with the disease. I'm surprised. It's quite rare."

Tore swallowed, but his mouth had gone completely dry. "It killed my mother."

Behind the doctor, Charisa gasped.

Longue nodded slowly. "I see. Well then you understand the severity of the situation. While treatment has improved in recent years, there is still no known cure for _hemolytia. _It's a rare disease, and one that's difficult to contract."

"Well then how did he get it?" Tore snapped. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't! There was no way his son had something that was going to kill him. Dare wasn't even three years old!

"We aren't certain," Longue apologized. "How it's contracted is not something we have been able to determine. However, I have called Doctor Renxiang Elric and asked her to come and provide a second opinion. I have heard that the Xingese medical community has more experience in the field of blood-related diseases."

Ren was coming. Tore felt a momentary lift. If anyone could find a cure for anything it would be Ren or Ethan. Healing alchemy could fix so many problems, surely it could fix this. "Is she coming now?"

"She will be here within the hour," Longue replied. "Until then please try and make yourself comfortable."

On the plastic and metal chair, in the sterile room where his son was lying desperately ill. Yeah, sure doc. Tore nodded. "I'll try."

When the doctor and the nurse were gone, Tore leaned back against the chair and closed his eyes. He was not going to cry. This would turn out all right, though oh how he wished it was some kind of nightmare.

The scent of coffee brought him back to the world.

"Do you still want it?" Charisa asked gently, her big blue eyes full of worry.

"I don't suppose you've got any rum for it." Tore took the cup anyway. Even hospital coffee was better than nothing.

It was a sign of the severity of the situation that Charisa didn't chide him for the comment. "They only had cream."

Cream was fine. "Thanks." Tore sipped his drink, but he barely tasted it. The situation was even more bitter than the drink. "How did he get it?" He shook his head. First his mother, now his son. "Is it… is it somehow related to me?"

"But you don't have it," Charisa pointed out.

"Well no, I don't." Tore had always been a robust and healthy kid. It had never occurred to him that someone else – especially not in his family – might have contracted the same rare condition. What were the odds? "At least… I don't see how I could. I mean, I'm healthy. I've been to doctors for years and there's never been a problem." But then… had anyone ever really looked? Tore had to admit he didn't know.

* * *

><p>Charisa left the room briefly to call in the rest of the day off. Whatever came of the diagnosis, she didn't think Tore should be left to deal with it on his own. He was hurting. She could see it in his face; feel it in the air around him. And there was poor little Dare, lying prone in that bed, asleep now – sedated she was sure – while his fluids were pumped into him, and his body fought something that could easily kill him. How long could a baby stand up to something like that?<p>

When she returned, Ren Elric was sitting next to Dare, her hand resting lightly on the baby's chest; a cloth wound around her hand creating a transmutation circle with its lines.

Tore looked like he might throw up himself. "Well?" he asked as Ren sat back, looking tired.

Ren's expression was not encouraging. "I am familiar with this disease," she nodded slowly. "It is one we have studied in Xing, though we also have never found a consistent cure."

Charisa's heart sank.

"There has to be something!" Tore insisted. "Ren you can't be telling me my son is going to die!"

Ren sighed. "Tore, please calm down. We need to study it further, and I did say it was not consistent. Cases have been controlled before."

"Controlled, but not cured." Tore didn't look like he thought that was much better. "My mother lived with it for years. She was always sick."

Ren turned around. "Tore, I would like to test you as well."

Tore froze. "Wh…what for?"

"Because it's a blood-based disease," Ren reiterated quietly. "The preclusion for it is genetic however."

"Are you saying I gave this to him?" Tore asked, clearly disbelieving. "This is my fault?"

"I didn't say that," Ren scowled slightly. "But if your mother had this disease and your son has it, than he had to have gotten it from somewhere."

Tore deflated, and Charisa resisted the urge to go and hug him. This was not the time or situation for something like that. Nor was it her place. She felt a bitter stab inside as she realized that really, it was Cecilia who should have been here, consoling Tore and taking care of her son. But no, the woman had abandoned that sweet little boy. Looking at him, it was always hard to feel sympathy for Cecilia. Who could have walked away from someone so sweet and loving?

Tore submitted. Charisa watched as Ren put her hand to Tore's chest instead, and began to, well, whatever she was doing. Charisa couldn't see or feel anything, but then she wasn't an alchemist. There might well be something going on that was clear to Tore.

When Ren pulled her hand away, she was not smiling.

"Well?" Tore looked hard at her. He sounded desperate.

"You carry it," Ren replied simply. "Though it is not active in your system, you are a carrier."

In that moment, Tore seemed to collapse, though he did not move outwardly. "No," he whispered, then it rose to a shout. "No. This can't be. He's my son. Don't tell me that I'm the one who made him sick!" His face contorted in a mix of rage and agony.

Charisa couldn't stand still anymore. She hurried over… and rested a hand on his shoulder. It felt odd to do more. "Tore…"

He shrugged her hand away as his face fell into his hands. "He can't die." Tore was… crying. "I won't let him die. Ren…" he looked up sharply. "Please, you have to find a cure! What treatment do they use in Xing? Isn't there something?"

Ren looked hesitant. "There is… but it's very dangerous."

"More dangerous than dying from this?" Tore asked.

"It could kill him," Ren answered evenly. "If it does not succeed in eradicating the disease."

Tore swallowed, but tears continued to flow slowly from his cheek. Charisa could not remember the last time she had seen Tore cry. "Then he dies either way, unless you succeed. What's involved?"

Ren sighed. "It involves using alchemical energy to, well in the simplest sense, to burn the cells of the disease right out of the blood itself. It's very difficult, and it takes time. Several treatments, and the illness will try and regenerate. We have to burn it out before Dare gives out. If it doesn't work, you lose him sooner. It's a , the patients are adults before it becomes active. I've never tried it on a child so young."

Tore grimaced. "I… I can't let someone else down," he finally whispered. "He's mine. I won't let him go."

"I'll talk to Ethan," Ren said. "With two of us, we may be able to make the treatment safer, or at least more effective without it being more dangerous. But we will need to do it soon."

Tore nodded. "I understand. Please, Ren…. Save him."

"You know we'll do everything we can, Tore." Ren looked calm, but Charisa could tell she was upset to. They were family to the Elrics as much as anyone else. Suddenly, Charisa felt very out of place. "I'll talk to Ethan. I think we can start this afternoon."

"Thank you," Tore replied in little more than a whisper.

Ren stepped out, and Charisa heard her talking to the doctor in the hallway. Tore remained there sitting, staring at nothing it seemed, unless he looked over at his unconscious son.

"Tore?"

"I never knew…" his voice cracked. "This is my fault."

"How is it your fault?" It wasn't like Tore could have known.

"I… I gave this to him… I… and damn it it's in me too. I never even thought about it. I just assumed it was something Mom had… since no one else ever caught it and now… now my son is dying."

He sounded so scared, lost, and furious all at once. Charisa didn't try to touch him again though. He had rebuffed her hand once already. "Tore… you had no way of knowing," she replied softly. "Even doctors didn't know. It's not your fault."

Tore was not cheered. "First I miss half his life, then I'm a lousy replacement for a mother. But we… we finally had it going right, I thought. And now… now I could lose him. I can't lose him…." His hands were shaking visibly.

"Ren and Ethan won't let that happen," Charisa replied. "Tore… please, don't give up. Dare's a tough little kid. He's still alive." It was a shock, she understood. Charisa herself hadn't been expecting it to be the same thing either. She hadn't ever met Tore's mother, but he had talked about her. To find out he carried the same disease that it had been passed through him to his son. It wasn't his fault, but she could understand why he felt guilty.

"Thanks," Tore replied weakly. "Charisa I… shit," he wiped tears out of his face with the back of his hand. Charisa pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and offered it. Tore took it, wiping his face. He didn't finish the question.

_He probably wanted to ask me to find him a drink. _Charisa's thought had none of the condescension she might have expected once, even from herself. It was a sad statement of fact. If she had ever seen a man who wanted to forget what was happening in front of him, this was it. She sympathized, but that didn't mean she was going to offer to go find him alcohol. Besides, it wouldn't be allowed in the hospital. "Would you like another cup of coffee?" she offered instead. "It's going to be a long afternoon."

Tore looked up at her, and stared for a long moment before he nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

* * *

><p>Five cups of coffee later, Tore felt mildly more in control of himself. Ren had returned with Ethan, and they had kindly – but firmly – ordered him out of the room. Tore wouldn't have left, except that what little part of his mind remained logical reminded him that Ren and Ethan were very fond of Dare, and would do everything it was in their power as doctors and alchemists to do to save his life.<p>

He had been surprised, but touched, when Charisa told him she had taken the rest of the day off. She tried to play it off lightly, but he knew why. She sat with him outside too as the afternoon wore on. Tore had already given them permission to just start treatment. What other option was there? Watching Dare die wasn't something he was strong enough to do.

The day was almost gone when the Elrics came out again. Both of them looked exhausted. Given the sheer amount of alchemical energy Tore had felt pouring out of the room, even though he knew it was all going into a patient, he wasn't surprised. "Well?" he stood up sharply.

Ethan was wiping sweat off his brow with a handkerchief of his own. "It's going to be rough," he replied honestly. "It's tough on adult patients, and Dare's awfully young to be dealing with this, but the first treatment went well. We'll have to hit him at least once a day with that though, possibly more, and every day until the entire disease is burned out of him. Otherwise it will come back."

No wonder they had called it risky. "But there's no alternative."

"No, there isn't," Ren agreed. "The hospital will take good care of him, but he should stay here until the treatments are over. After that, he's going to be very weak for a while, but once the treatments are finished, he should recover steadily."

_You mean if he lives. _Though he guessed there was no need for anyone to say it. That was the worst case scenario. Tore just wished it was less likely. "I'll take care of him."

"Of course you will," Ren smiled.

"Can I see him now?"

"He's asleep," Ren informed him. "But of course you can. At least until the hospital says otherwise. He's going to be very susceptible to other contamination during this time though, so be sure to keep his exposure to anything outside minimal."

"I will. Thanks again…" he felt like he was saying that a lot. But what else was there to say? Dare's life was in their hands.

When they left, Tore went back into the room. His son hadn't moved. He was unconscious, but the monitors attached to him showed a steady heartbeat despite how feverish and ill he looked. It made Dare seem even smaller. _You can't die on me kid. We haven't had nearly enough time together. _

Charisa's familiar footsteps followed him across the floor a minute later. "Dr. Longue says visiting hours are ending," she said apologetically. "They'll take care of him, and call immediately if you're needed. You can come back in a bit though since you're his parent."

Tore didn't want to leave. He'd sleep in the waiting room if he had to. He'd… but he couldn't do any good, and he couldn't afford to take a week off. He didn't have that much leave saved up. Besides, it could take longer than that. Treatment could be what, weeks, months? How long could Dare hold out? Looking at him, it didn't seem like it would be that long before his life was decided for him.

Tore wanted to argue, but he knew that was true. Besides, if he was allowed to come back in a while, than he could sleep here. He could be with Dare every moment he could. "All right. Let's go."

Charisa looked relieved when he turned around. Probably about the fact he wasn't arguing. The truth was, he didn't have it in him to argue at the moment. "You should have something to eat," Charisa suggested.

Tore supposed five cups of coffee didn't really count as food, but he still wasn't hungry. "Sure." He headed out the door. He seemed to have two modes today; breaking down or half-numb from shock. Numb seemed preferable. He said nothing else as they left the hospital, he just turned left and headed towards the nearest establishment. He wondered how long it would take Charisa to realize he was heading for a bar. He waited for the correction.

It didn't come. When he stopped outside of O'Reilly's Pub, she was still next to him. "What?" she asked.

Tore shrugged. If she wasn't going to argue, he wasn't going to bring it up. "Nothing. Tell you what, dinner's on me since you drove and, you know..."

Charisa smiled weakly. "Sure. Thanks."

Together they went inside, and Tore felt another twinge of gratitude. Charisa understood.


	2. Chapter 2

**April 22****nd****, 1969  
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Edward stared at his typewriter. It wasn't that he had no idea what to do with the story next. It was just that he had almost too many good ideas for how to play with the scene in front of him. It was entirely fictional, based only very loosely on one of his and Al's adventures, but he wanted to make it as interesting as possible. His first fictional novel – under pen name of course – had hit the shelves only the month before, but already the publisher had asked about a sequel, it was selling so well. _Apparently I have a flare for the dramatic. _Ed could have told them that years ago.

Pir lay sprawled on the floor by Ed's feet, napping contentedly. The old dog – now the only dog – mostly slept these days. He still liked to go on walks, but happy as he was, he could no longer keep up if Ed went for a full out run.

Ed rubbed the dog's ears absently with one socked foot as he thought. Then his stomach rumbled. _Maybe adventure will come more easily on a full stomach. _At least, he couldn't think well while he was distracted. Ed stood and stretched, feeling small pops all the way down his spine. "Come on, fella. Let's have some lunch."

The door opened almost before he reached it. "Oh, you're not busy." Winry stood in the hall, hand on the door.

"Lunch time," Ed chuckled.

Winry shook her head. "Yes, I know. I've got sandwiches made already. I just thought you'd like to know that Tore called again."

"How's Dare doing?" Ed asked as he followed Winry downstairs. Tore – and Ethan – had called a couple of days ago to tell them about the boy's illness, and its origins. It reminded Ed too much of the early days of Tore living with them. When he had been sure his mother was still out there somewhere. Ethan treated it with his usual calm, despite his obvious worry. Tore had sounded half dead the first time he called. Though he had called every day since, usually to talk to Winry.

"Holding on," Winry replied. "They had a bit of a scare during his treatment this morning, but he's stable."

Ed's heart went out to Tore. There was nothing more painful than the fear of losing a child. Not even, he had to admit now, that of losing a parent. Maybe a spouse, but there was just something about little kids. "I'm glad he's holding on. What about Tore?"

"He's terrified." Winry sighed as she walked into the kitchen and picked up the plates she had already prepared. "Not that he's said it right out, but you can hear it. Dare's his only blood family left, and he clearly feels like this is his fault."

Ed took his plate from Winry and sat down at the table. "I don't suppose anyone has said anything about the fact he's got, whatever it's called, too."

Winry shook her head. "No. Right now everyone's focused on keeping Dare alive. Ethan said that Tore's is inactive. If he's fortunate, it will stay that way."

"You'd think the world could leave the kid alone." His father killed, his mother kidnapped by his uncle and dead in Drachma. Stuck as a fosterling, then the war and everything else; Cecilia… and now when he was finally coming into his own and making life work as a father, he might lose his son.

"There's always hope," Winry smiled softly, sitting down across from him. "And Tore's not alone. They haven't really let him be, unless he's in the hospital with Dare."

"That's probably a good thing." Not that Ed didn't trust Tore, but the younger man had trouble dealing with this kind of stress. "Who's been keeping an eye on him? Cal? Ethan?"

"Charisa, mostly."

Ed stopped mid-chew… and swallowed. "Charisa, huh." Tore had told them they were still friends, but from what he had seen they spent very little time together. Apparently things changed. Still, it gave him a sort of odd feeling. "And her husband doesn't mind?"

"Apparently Raul is on one of his business trips," Winry informed him.

Raul seemed to spend quite a lot of time on business trips. Of course, Ed wasn't really one to talk, given how much his own life had kept him out of the house over the years. He had never really considered international business, but he supposed that it made sense that it required that much travel. Especially since he had agreed that their primary residence would be in Central, but the main portion of his father's company was in Creta. "Well I'm glad they're getting along," he replied. "And that he's got someone he can trust around." Ed wished he was there now, but Ethan had told them he didn't think the treatments would last that long. Either the boy would be cured, or he would be dead.

It was suddenly much harder to savor his meal.

**April 26****th****, 1969**

Tore felt like his head was going to explode, which was extremely unfair since he hadn't had enough to drink to give him a hangover. Hell, he was pretty sure coffee couldn't give you a hangover. It could be caffeine withdrawal, except that he'd had plenty of coffee. _It would probably help if I actually got some sleep._ Sleep, food… things that seemed to have lost meaning.

Dare had only awakened while Tore was there a total of once in the past week. Tore hoped that his son wasn't really aware of everything going on, and that he would live through this and never have any real memory of the horror that Tore was going through. But then, his son didn't understand the concept of death, so maybe he wasn't afraid the way Tore was.

At the moment, his son looked frail, breakable like a porcelain doll, and he had lost weight. As much as they could keep him alive intravenously feeding and watering him, his little body was using up a lot of energy fighting his illness, especially with the strong alchemical treatments he was getting.

And yet Ethan and Ren said he was doing well. If he made it through another treatment, he might be free of this forever.

So why did Tore have a sense of impending doom?

Tore had tried to go to work the first few days, but he had been all but useless. Sara had sent him home, told him he could use sick leave. After all, Dare being sick certainly countered. She had been kind about it though.

It seemed like everyone was worried. He also knew they didn't quite trust him by himself. Not that Tore had really been alone. If he spent more than a few hours alone in the apartment he went stir crazy anyway. Cal had been feeding his cat. Tore just hope Rapscallion hadn't been conning Cal into overfeeding him.

It had been a long day, sitting here, waiting. Tore had brought a book, but he couldn't read. He couldn't focus on anything. He just watched his son.

"Tore?"

The work day must be over. Charisa was standing in the doorway with a bag of take-out and drinks.

He tried to smile, but failed. "Hi. What's that?"

"Sustenance," Charisa replied. "Dare's getting more nutrition than you are."

It turned out to be sandwiches; whole wheat bread, heavy on the crisp raw veggies, but with ham and cheese and a tangy white dressing. The drink was orange juice. She hadn't been kidding about bringing stuff that was good for him. "You didn't have to do this, but… thanks." He took a bite. As much as he didn't feel like eating, his tongue apparently disagreed. It was a really good sandwich. He devoured it in less than two minutes.

"I thought you could use that," Charisa smiled. She was only a quarter of the way through hers.

"You were right," Tore conceded. Not that he hadn't been fully aware he couldn't live off coffee and junk snacks out of the vending machine in the hall. He just hadn't cared. Whenever anyone asked, he just told them yeah he had eaten. Apparently Charisa knew better than to believe him. She knew him that well. "So, Raul's supposed to come home tonight, right?"

Charisa nodded, and smiled. "He called last night to say his train should be in right on schedule. I'll go pick him up when the train comes in. If you want, we'll come back by here afterward and see how you're doing."

"No, that's all right. You haven't seen him in weeks," Tore shook his head. Charisa should spend that time where he knew she really wanted to be. "Raul probably wants to spend some time with his favorite girl someplace romantic, not in a hospital."

Charisa's smile slipped. "Well that's probably true, but he'd understand, you know that, right? I really wish the two of you could get along better."

So she had noticed that they didn't really get along, despite the constant civility on both their parts. So much for that act. "It's okay, really. You've been great. You should enjoy yourself tonight. Everything will be fine here." Tore's idea of getting along would have involved finding some way to steal Charisa away without her minding in

the least. His brain had once – in a very deluded and drink-induced dream – contemplated _that _threesome, and he had woken shuddering in disgust.

Charisa was obviously relieved. "Thank you for understanding. He did sound rather eager on the phone."

_Who wouldn't be eager to get back to you? _Having her attention this week, despite the horrors and perhaps because of them, had been the best thing about it.

There was a knock at the door. Tore looked up and saw Dr. Longue and Ren and Ethan in the doorway. Tore did not get up to leave. "I want to stay," he said firmly. Dare looked so weak, if he didn't make it well… at least Tore could say he stayed with his son through the end of his short life.

None of them disagreed. "Good," Ethan actually said. "We could use you."

Tore blinked. "Really?"

Ren nodded. "The extra energy could be useful. This is going to be the longest session we've done. Ethan thinks you can handle it."

Charisa did stand. "Let me know how it goes," was all she said before she slipped back out the door.

"So what do I need to do?" Tore asked, suddenly more nervous than he had thought possible.

"Just help feed me energy," Ethan smiled. "Ren and I will control the transmutation."

Okay, he could do that. Tore nodded. "Okay. I'm ready then."

Dr. Longue took up a position out of the way, though he watched with interest, his eyes mostly on the monitors that kept track of Dare's vital signs.

Tore had never been part of a medical transmutation, outside of being treated in combat of course. He had never been 'in' someone else. And while he wasn't actively taking part in the transmutation, as soon as Ethan and Ren started, he was connected. It was almost like he could see inside Dare's body, though it wasn't really a visual.  
>Blood cells, or at least, the assumed the things were blood cells, became visible in his mind. Then, within them, he saw spots, little discolored spots. Was that what it looked like? Apparently, as the tiny little spots started to simmer and spark out of existence.<p>

If it hadn't been his son they were saving, Tore might have found it more fascinating. Instead, he backed off and focused on providing as much alchemical energy as he could.

While it seemed to go on for days, Tore was shocked when the flow suddenly stopped. He looked at the clock. An hour had passed. He was soaked in sweat; so was Ethan. Ren looked, slightly glowing. Tore wouldn't have said she was sweaty.

"Well?" Was it done? Tore looked down at his son. His heartbeat on the monitor was still slow, still steady. Weak, but constant. Nothing seemed to have changed.

Longue stepped away from the wall and joined them as Ren smiled. "It's done. I'll check on him tomorrow, but that should have been the last of it."

Tore felt a temporary wash of relief. The worst was, hopefully, over. "So he can't pass it on either?"

"Nope." Ren shook her head. "It's gone for good. When he has children of his own, they'll be safe."

Tore reached out and cradled one little hand. "Thank goodness." His heart was pounding. Dare didn't look any better, but to know he was cured… he was free of the curse Tore had unwittingly given him at his conception, was a definite relief.

But… Tore wasn't. He shook himself. He was fine. It didn't matter now.

_But what if you ever have more?_ The question came unbidden. If he did, however unlikely, find a girl; wouldn't she want kids of her own? Would Dare like siblings? Tore couldn't give them that, he knew. Not if it meant possibly infecting some other unsuspecting baby with this monster.

"You all right?"

Ethan was giving him a concerned look.

Tore sighed, and nodded. "Just thinking." He would tell him about his concern later. Right now, Dare mattered most.

"It's a good thing you ate first," Ethan grinned, eyeing the empty bag. "I'm starved. Dr. Longue can take it from here."

Tore nodded. Now, he just wanted his son to wake up. "I'll get something," he promised. His stomach was growling as if he'd spent an entire day in sparring practice.

"You can do it now," Dr. Longue suggested. "I'll make sure you're not kept out."

Not that anyone in the hospital would try and stop him. They all knew him by now, at least by face. The pediatric wing was depressing though. For the first time, Tore thought he might be able to leave without feeling guilty. But he would hurry. He wanted to be the first thing Dare saw when he woke up.

**April 27****th****, 1969**

Ren smiled at Tore as she finished her examination of Dare the next afternoon. "We were right," she said. "It's gone."

For the first time in over a week, she saw Tore smile; it was a large, relieved grin that broke through days of tiredness and strain. "I don't know how to thank you," he said. "Dare he…" he choked up.

"I know." Ren would have felt the same with any of her three children.

Tore's smile faded a little. "Ren could you… could you treat me?"

That was not a question she had anticipated. "Why?" she asked, startled. "You're perfectly healthy, Tore. You carry it, but it's inactive. I don't think it's wise to mess with that." She didn't want to see him get sick. "It could go active if we try, and it is possible to fail."

"I figured but…" Tore hesitated. "Ren, what about next time? I can't live like this. How am I suppose to even think about dating again, finding someone when… when any other children would be in the same danger?"

So that was it. Ren reached out and pat his hand. "Any woman who really loves you wouldn't care. Or at least, she would be all right with not having more. It's still not your fault." But it was true, he shouldn't try and have more children. Seeing him with Dare, she actually felt that was a real shame.

"I appreciate the optimism," Tore replied. "But I'm not sure I believe it. If I had known before…"

"If you had known, what would you have done differently?" Ren asked patiently. "Refused to date girls? Stop living life? Dare wouldn't exist. You wouldn't have what you do. Talking about doing things differently doesn't change the present, Tore. Right now, you should just concern yourself with taking care of Dare. We got rid of the disease, but he's still a very sick little boy. It's going to take him a while to recover."

Tore sighed. "You're right. Just, think about it?"

"If you consider what you're asking," Ren nodded. She could think about it. That did not mean she had to agree to do it. "It would take even more energy and a much longer period of treatment to drive it out of your system. Active or not, it has been there for your entire life. You would be risking your own life, possibly needlessly."

"I understand." Did he? He seemed to. Ren just hoped that was really the case. Tore could be extremely stubborn when he got an idea in his head. Of course, after such a near miss, she could understand why it felt so immediate to him right now.

"Take care of yourself too," Ren suggested, smiling as she stood to go. "And remember to call if you need anything while you're both recuperating." Though she knew plenty of folks would keep checking in on them. Sometimes Tore was too independent for his own good.

Tore smiled back a little more convincingly. "I will."

**May 7****th****, 1969**

The scent of Xingese cherry blossoms and sunshine-warmed grass tickled pleasantly at Edward's nose as the wind lightly ruffled his hair. The fresh air felt good as he breathed it deep into his lungs, letting it slow and easy, enjoying the feel of breathing; healthy lungs, and the sweet sound of his heart pumping. He could feel it, and even after so many years, he found it imminently reassuring.

"Edward!" Winry's voice calling out the back door of the house made him open his eyes. Yes, for a garden he had planted himself in Amestris, his little meditation garden certainly did feel like the ones he enjoyed in Xing.

He stood and turned around. "What, Winry?"

"Tore's on the phone," she replied, smiling. "He wants to speak to you."

Ed hurried inside. It had been eight days since Dare was declared free, and five since Tore had been allowed to bring him home. "Hey there," he grinned into the phone. "How's it going?"

It felt good to hear Tore chuckle on the other end of the line. "Not bad," he replied. "At least, not if you're Dare. He's rediscovered food."

"Eating you out of the apartment is he?" Ed joked.

"Just about." Tore sounded extremely happy about that fact though. "He spends most of his time sleeping and eating, though it's good to see him smile again."

"I bet. I look forward to seeing him when we come up to visit." Ed had almost moved up their trip, but was glad it hadn't been necessary after all. "Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about?"

"Yeah, actually," Tore sounded a bit more serious. "I was wondering how tough it was for you to undergo alchemical treatment. You know, when you went to Xing for your heart."

Now that gave Ed pause. It had been years since he had really thought about it. "It was a tough decision," he admitted. "But I felt like I had to, in the end. It was that or keep limping through life half-living. You're thinking about getting treated yourself aren't you?" He wasn't surprised, not after what Ethan had told him about the source of Dare's malady.

"It's that or I have to find a religious cult that believes in celibacy," Tore quipped. "And convince myself that's a good idea."

"I don't think those still exist," Ed snickered. "Or that you'd last long in one anyway. They usually don't believe in having fun either." Not that Tore was like most of the soldiers his own age anymore anyway; thank goodness. Dare had been good for Tore, despite the rough spots. Ed couldn't leave it on that flippant answer though. "It's a decision you have to make for yourself. Whether you can decide that you can live life the way you are, and find happiness and move past it, or if it's going to be something you can't live with, but are willing to risk that life for. Dare's alive, but he still needs his father."

"That's why this is so hard," Tore admitted. "I want to do it for him, but I can't risk abandoning him but… I feel so selfish even thinking like this."

"It's not selfish," Ed disagreed. "Even if you have very strong personal reasons for it." He couldn't blame him for not wanting to potentially give it to some other child. And if he had lovers, or got married, there was always that possibility no matter how careful a guy was. It only took one slip. "And whatever you decide, you know we'll support you in it." Assuming, of course, that Tore could convince Ren and Ethan to even let him go through the treatment. "Not sure if that helps with what you're asking."

"It does, actually. Thanks." Tore sounded slightly relieved. "I think Ren thinks I'm crazy."

"That's all right," Ed chuckled. "You probably are, but sometimes there's nothing wrong with that."

"Thanks, I think."

Ed smiled. "Take care of yourself."

"I will." And with that, the call ended.

Ed put down the receiver and turned to find Winry waiting curiously. "Well?" she asked.

"Well he's still thinking," Ed replied. "I'm pretty sure he's made up his mind though."

Winry nodded. "I thought as much. Do you think he should do it?"

Ed had to think about that one for a moment. "Yes, I think I do."

**May 19****th****, 1969**

"All right, but this is how we're going to do it," Ren told Tore firmly, ignoring his smirk at having talked her and Ethan into this. "We're not going to begin until mid-June. Dare is still recovering and he needs you. I also want you to use that time to figure out additional help taking care of him, because if you think he was tired, just wait until you see how you feel." Ren knew it was going to take a lot out of Tore, just as it did the other alchemists who would be doing the treatment. "A friend of mine, Xia Huang is going to be in town and has promised then to help with your treatments." It would be easier on her and Ethan to have a third person.

"Treatments will be four times a week as long as it remains inactive in your bloodstream, and until it is eradicated. We may have to step them up if it does go active. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." Tore nodded, though he still looked smug, and relieved.

"You had better," she sighed. She couldn't really blame him for wanting this, but it was still a risk. "This is something that we can stop only so long as it doesn't go active. If it does, then you'll have no choice but to see it through."

Tore nodded. "I'm aware of that. Though I have no intention of dying."

Ren couldn't help smiling, just a bit. "I'm sure you don't." And that stubbornness might just be the reason why he'd make it through.

**May 22****nd****, 1969**

Now where was that juicer? Charisa dug through the kitchen drawer, but it wasn't there. Of course, if it had been, she wouldn't be wondering. She had checked all of the logical places to put it in their little apartment kitchen, but it was nowhere to be found when she wanted to fresh squeeze a little orange juice for breakfast.

With a sigh, Charisa went into the other room and picked up the phone. If nothing else, it was a nice little excuse to call Raul and make sure he had made it back to Creta all right for his business conference.

The phone rang four times before it picked up. "Valentino and Valentino," Raul's secretary, Olissa's, voice came over the phone.

"Is Raul in?" Charisa asked. "This is his wife."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Valentino," Olissa replied. "Mr. Valentino is in a late meeting. May I take a message?"

It sounded dumb to leave a message asking where the orange juicer was. Charisa forced herself to keep smiling despite the hundreds of miles between them. "Just tell him to please call me back when he has a minute. Thank you."

"Of course, Mrs. Valentino."

Half way back to the kitchen Charisa stopped dead so fast she almost tripped over her own feet. She caught herself on the wall. _Didn't I dial the apartment number? _


	3. Chapter 3

**June 12****th****, 1969**

"So did they agree to the deal?" Charisa asked Raul as she unpacked his suits, hanging them one at a time in his half of the bedroom closet.

Her husband lay sprawled out on the bed, head on a pillow, one arm over his eyes, looking about as relaxed as he ever got; dog tired. His good shoes lay on the floor by the side of the bed. "They did," he smiled. "Renewed the contract and we have a projected increased profit margin of five percent for the coming year on that account."

"That's great." Charisa smiled at him, then turned to put his tan suit up between the charcoal gray and the black-and-grey pin-stripe. As she smoothed it out, her hand caught a hair; a long, pale blond hair. She didn't have to ask who it belonged to. She had met Raul's secretary in Creta. "You must have worked some long hours. You look tired."

"It might be more accurate to say I had to schedule sleep," Raul chuckled. "There were a lot of meetings, memos, letters and contracts; visits to stores. The usual things; I don't want to bore you with a recount."

"Didn't you have help?" Charisa asked. "You've always said Olissa is a very capable secretary."

"Don't know where I'd be without her," Raul acknowledged easily. "She's always there when I need her."

"Even at your apartment?"

Charisa regretted the words the moment they came out of her mouth. Raul's arm lifted up and he gave her a very strange look. "What are you talking about?"

Well she couldn't back out of it now. "When I called you a couple of weeks ago, I called you at the apartment and Olissa answered the phone." Did she sound as pathetic as she felt? What was she even saying?

Recognition lit up Raul's tanned, handsome face. "Oh right! Yeah, she was over. It had been a long day at the office, but there were some acquisitions I needed to deal with."

"So you did it at the apartment?"

"It's more comfortable than the office."

Charisa couldn't argue with that fact, but she didn't have to like it. Something had given her an uneasy feeling ever since that night. Maybe it was how every time she ran the conversation over in her mind, Olissa's voice got more and more smug, or amused, or secretive. "So how late did you work?"

Raul was propped up on his elbows now, looking at her intently; his dark eyes meeting hers with that deep, sincere, piercing gaze. "Not too late, maybe nine o'clock."

The math in her head made Charisa frown as she matched up the time difference. "I called at ten."

"Maybe it was ten," Raul shrugged, unperturbed. "It was late. I might have missed the time."  
><em><br>As if you've ever forgotten the time of anything in your life. _He was on time with better-than-military precision to everything. _Raul_ lose track of time? Charisa resisted the urge to put her hands on her hips. They crossed instead; hands resting lightly on her elbows. "Did she stay the night?"

Raul's good natured expression vanished like a wisp of fog. "What if she did?"

That… was not the response Charisa had expected. Denial maybe? "What do you mean by that?" Shit... that sounded snappy.

"Just what I said," Raul replied. "Why are you upset about this?"

Was this for real? Charisa shook her head. "I don't like the idea of another woman staying the night alone with you in that apartment." Why would she? No woman would want a woman staying the night alone with her husband, even if nothing happened. Why didn't he just tell her that it had been late; she'd slept on the couch, then gone home early in the morning. Surely he knew what she was asking.

Raul met her gaze for several long seconds; then he gave his head a rueful little shake. "I never pegged you for the jealous type. I figured you were too practical for that."

"Don't dance around the answer, Valentino," Charisa replied flatly. "I'm not one of your clients. Why don't you just answer me straight?"

Raul sighed. "Because you really don't want me to. I can tell. You're getting all defensive already. Whatever happened to innocence without evidence?"

"Let's just say this is under Cretan law," Charisa suggested.

"Fine." He stood up in one fluid movement. "Yes, Olissa stayed the night in the apartment."

Charisa opened her mouth… but nothing came out. He was right. She didn't want to ask the next obvious question, because behind his eyes she could already see the answer. "Why?"

"Because it was late," Raul replied.

"Why did she tell me you were in a late meeting?"

Raul smiled. "I'm sure she was just joking around with you, 'Risa."

"Well it wasn't funny." Charisa refused to soften her stance. His smile made her want to melt; she refused to melt. Her stomach was a horrible ball of knots. "And I don't like it. Has… has it happened before?"

Raul shrugged. "A few times."

She might have been able to forgive once but… "You couldn't get her a cab?"

"Is it so wrong to want a little company?" Raul asked reasonably. "It's a long way from here; from you. I get lonely you know." He stepped right up close to her, his hands resting easily on her upper arms. "Who wouldn't, without you around?"

His lips were close.

"Stop it," Charisa stepped back. She felt stupider and stupider, but she couldn't just back down now. "This isn't even close to reasonable! If anyone found out about it, you could hurt your company's reputation letting rumors get out."

"Oh I'm not worried about that," Raul shook his head. "Relax and don't worry your pretty head. Olissa's father owns one of our subsidiary corporations. There's no chance of misunderstandings."

"What about… other understandings?"

"Will you drop that?" Raul's smile slipped. "I told you there's no problem. Just take my word on it."

Charisa forced herself to look into his eyes. "Then tell me you haven't had sex with her."

For just a moment, his eyes twitched. "Before or after we got married?"

Charisa yanked her arms away from him. "Really? That's what you say to me? That's not a straight answer, Raul! Of course after! Why would I care about before… unless it was when we were going out, or engaged...?" She hadn't met Olissa when she and Raul were in college. Had he known her then? He had pursued Charisa so single-mindedly, so eagerly…. "How long _has_ this been going on, Raul?" She felt tears in her eyes. She refused to let them fall.

A contrite, apologetic expression came over his fine features. "With Olissa? I… not long," he admitted.

But there was something… "And other women?"

"Damn-it, 'Risa, can't a man just apologize?" Raul's reached for her again, but she stepped nimbly around the edge of the bed. "Why do you have to be so hard-nosed about all this?"

"Because my _husband_ just admitted to an affair with his secretary?" Charisa snapped. "And probably other girls. Tell me, Raul… if this has been going on for a while, than why the hell did you pretend to want me so badly?"

"I wasn't pretending!" He reached out, snagging her sleeve. "Of course I wanted you. You're perfect. I love you."

"Then what about these _other_ women?" Her throat choked off the last word as she shoved him away again. "Don't touch me."

He stopped pursuing, taking a stung step backwards. "I told you, I was lonely. There's hundreds of miles between here and Creta. What's a guy supposed to do for weeks or months at a time? It's perfectly normal."

"On what planet?" Charisa felt her hands balling into fists. Lying…cheating…. "You've been lying to me! You've been cheating on me. What's a guy supposed to do? Stay loyal to the woman he professes to love. The one he swore to be faithful to for the rest of his life. Instead of sleeping with some half-witted secretary with more ass than brains!"

"Don't go attacking Olissa," Raul frowned. "It's not her fault."

"Isn't it?" Charisa was sure she was going to haul off and slug him any moment. "She's part of this! She's the one you're having sex with isn't she? I'd love to know then, _darling,_ what your father and the company think of these little sessions with your corporate whore?"

"Don't call her that!"

"Shouldn't you be defending _me_?" Charisa asked, feeling a strange, sort of half-numb calm come over her. "I'm the one you want to be with. I'm the one you married. _I'm the one who has a damned right to be pissed off when some floozy is in your bed instead of me!" _

"If you felt that way about it, why the heck didn't you move to Creta instead?" Raul asked, dark eyes going cold and stony. "I agreed to everything you wanted, Charisa. I moved to Central for you, despite the extra travel for me; so you could stay near your friends and your work. I let you pick the place and decorate however you wanted. I never pester you about where you've been or who with; despite the fact you work for the government and spend tons of time around military men. I'd think you could be a little more reasonable about my needs."

"Since when is cheating meeting your needs?" Charisa snorted. Not pestering? He'd been so happy with all her decisions. What was this?

"You tell me?" Raul replied flatly.

"E…excuse me?"

Raul smirked. "Oh don't play dumb. You're a redhead not a blond. You're always scampering off somewhere, or out at odd hours, and almost never home when I call. You spend all your spare time at Closson's place."

He… was he accusing _her_ of… ? "He's ill!" Charisa pointed out furiously. "You know that. I told you I was helping babysit his son and while they're both getting treatment."

"Because with the entire Elric clan to help him out, Closson can't get along without _you._" Raul shook his head. "I put up with your friendship before because you asked me to."

"And there's nothing going on between Tore and I," Charisa retorted. "There never has been! He's just a friend and that's all there is to it."

But from Raul's expression, she got the feeling he didn't believe her. "And Olissa's just a friend of mine. Come on, 'Risa. Calm down and let it go. I won't make a stink about your life, and you don't make a stink about mine."

Charisa shoved past him. She wanted out of this room! "Your life?" she half-growled softly as she passed him. "Whatever happened to _our_ life?"

**June 17****th****, 1969**

"So next time use a little more carbon, okay?" Edward looked at Trisha's sheet of alchemical equations on the table in front of him. Helping his grand-daughter with her alchemy was one of his favorite things to do with a summer afternoon.

His grand-daughter looked at his altered version of the calculation and nodded. "Okay, I get it. No wonder they wouldn't hold together right."

"How's the alchemy lesson going?"

Ed looked up at Winry, who was smiling as she followed Dare as he toddled into the room. The little boy was regaining energy and mobility quickly now. "Really well," he grinned. "How's toddler-wrangling?"

"Fantastic of course," Winry said as she caught Dare and scooped him up and deposited him on the sofa. The boy giggled.

Ed was glad to see Dare doing well. Being concerned for one boy at a time was enough. "Too bad Eamon and Lily aren't here today."

"Well they're allowed to have play-dates elsewhere," Winry chuckled, hugging Dare tightly as she sat him down on the couch. "Dare will see them tomorrow."

Watching Dare during the day was something that was normally Gracia's doing, but with the number of little ones in the family presently – and it being summer break – child care was not only a necessity, but an enjoyment to spread around.

Ed looked at his watch. "Well Tore should be here soon."

"Which means it's about time for me to check on dinner," Winry nodded. "Can you keep an eye on him?"

Dare was looking at the small pile of picture books on the couch with a happy expression.

"Sure, no problem," Ed grinned. He stood up as Trisha bent back over her equations eagerly and went over to the couch. "Hey there, buddy. You want me to read you one of those?"

Dare looked up and grinned. "Yes! I wanna story."

Ed snatched up The Playful Duckling – a favorite of every generation so far it seemed – and Dare cuddled up against him.

"Ducky!"

"Yes, ducky."

Ed was just to the end of the story when he heard the front door open and Tore walked bleary-eyed into the room and dropped into the easy chair like a sack of turnips.

"Daddy!" Dare scrambled down and hurried over to the chair.

Tore opened one eye and smiled, pushing exhaustion aside as he reached down and helped Dare into his lap. "Hey, kiddo. Did you have fun today?"

"Yep!" Dare hugged him back. "We played ball, and I got stories!"

"Sounds great."

Ed felt sympathy for Tore's exhaustion. He'd pushed through his first week of alchemical treatments, and was still working at HQ. Ed couldn't figure out where he got the energy other than sheer stubborn pride. "So how was your day?"

"Draining," Tore quipped. "Which is kind of pathetic given I sat on my butt and worked with paper all day."

"Mom thinks you should be taking leave," Trisha commented matter-of-factly without looking up from the table.

"Yeah I know," Tore said with a wry grin. "She told me so at least twice today."

"There's no shame in taking medical leave," Ed commented. "You need all the energy you can get."

"Common sense and caution from the Fullmetal Alchemist?" Tore probably meant to sound falsely scandalized, but it fell a little short.

Ed shrugged. "I've done this before. I remember how it felt." Then he flashed a grin. "I hope you brought your appetite. Winry's cooked up quite a meal tonight."

Tore's eyes lit up even as he looked a little sheepish. "I'm famished."  
><em><br>I know you are. _For the same reason he knew how tired he was.

"That's good." Winry came out of the kitchen. "We've got ham, mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli and spaghetti."

"All of which sound fantastic… if I can make it to the table." Tore put a smile on it, like he had been all week.

"I'm sure you can make it," Winry chuckled encouragingly. "It's amazing what a man will do for food."

That look was meant for him. Ed snickered. "Isn't that the truth?"

**June 20****th****, 1969**

The solid knocking on the door and Dare's excited giggling and yelling "Door! Door!" was Tore's first reminder that Charisa had promised to come over and spent part of Saturday helping him with some chores around the apartment and wrangling his boisterous son. Tore was grateful for the boisterousness since it meant Dare was recovering wonderfully, but he would have appreciated a quieter recover.

Especially when he could hear him through his pillow. "I'm coming," he grumbled, swinging his legs out of bed, and grateful he'd slept in his shorts and undershirt. He still tugged on a pair of gray sweatpants before going to the door. "Morning," he said when he saw Charisa standing on the landing.

Her flinch of sympathy was not the reaction he preferred from women, but he knew he looked like he was dragging as badly as he felt. Charisa, on the other hand, looked calm and well put together in blue slacks and a casual lighter blue blouse. "Good morning, Tore," she replied as she stepped in. "I'm sorry. I hoped if I came later I wouldn't wake you."

"What time is it?" Tore hadn't looked at the clock.

"Ten."

"Oh." It was a miracle Dare hadn't dragged him out of bed with complaints of hunger. Maybe he should give him a bit more slack. "Yeah, I… it's okay."

"You look awful," Charisa sighed. "Are you getting enough sleep?"

"Twelve hours a night plus cat naps," Tore replied. "But not apparently."

"Auntie 'Risa!" Dare rocketed out of the bedroom and flung himself against her legs in a big tight hug. "Let's play."

Charisa's face lit up as she crouched and smiled. "In just a bit, I promise. It's a nice day. I thought maybe we'd go to the park in a little bit. That is, if Daddy doesn't mind." She looked up at him.

Tore smiled. As if he could say no to either of those faces? "Sounds great." He wouldn't be going. He'd probably spend his entire Saturday lazing in bed.

"I'll help out here first, like I promised," Charisa assured him, straightening up again and looking around the room. "Though really, I expected more of a disaster when you said you needed help around the apartment."

Tore smiled sheepishly. "Okay so I'm feeling lazy. People keep telling me I should be taking it easier and I'm sick of it. But I can't say I mind not having to do all the chores."

"So give me a list," Charisa smiled.

"Dishes, cat litter, and I've got a load of clothing that needs to go to the Laundromat." Someplace Tore really hated sending anyone, but his laundry needed doing.

"Consider it done, done, and my apartment has a washer and dryer," Charisa pointed out.

Her apartment? Tore hadn't thought about it much. "Yeah; Raul won't mind you doing my laundry over there?"

He knew the moment the words left his mouth he'd said something wrong. Charisa's smile vanished and her entire expression tightened.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"Oh, no," she shook her head. "I… I just…" Tears…those were tears!

"Yes I did," Tore shook his head. "What's wrong?" If Raul had hurt her, his fist and a whole lot of alchemy was going straight through someone's face.

"Not now," Charisa replied simply.

Tore understood. _Not in front of Dare._ "All right then, but if you want to talk later, you'd better tell me."

"Sure." Charisa nodded, and her smile reappeared almost like magic. "Are you helping with the chores or am I the unpaid maid?" she joked.

"Well I figured I'd help pick up, and pet the cat," Tore teased.

Rapscallion was doing his fur-doily impression on the back of the couch.

"Frankly, he ought to have to help collect the laundry," Charisa sniffed.

"He does hunt socks." Tore chuckled.

Chores turned out to take very little time. In fairly short order, Tore had devoured a breakfast consisting of four slices of thickly buttered toast, two fried eggs, and a glass of orange juice. By the time he finished, Charisa had already rendered his kitchen spotless, his living room without clutter, and the cat box had been completely cleaned out.

"You're amazing." Tore hadn't had much of a mess, but she was so much more efficient than he was.

"Or anal retentive," Charisa replied flatly.

Something was definitely wrong, but Tore didn't press the point. By eleven the apartment was nearly spotless, Dare was dressed for the day with a bag of things packed, and Charisa had bundled Tore's laundry into an easy-to-carry couple of bags to take down to her car. "We'll be back in a few hours," she promised Tore. "You take it easy… and take a shower," she added as a last smiling parting shot.

The door closed, and Tore was left utterly alone in his apartment for the first time… well excluding Dare's time in the hospital, almost since they'd moved in.

Tore did just as Charisa had suggested. He took a long, soaking shower that lasted until he ran out of hot water, then he had another snack at lunch time – two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with a tall glass of milk – and passed out on the couch less than two pages into a novel.

* * *

><p>Something heavy slamming into his stomach woke Tore from deep slumber. "Oof, what the?" He looked down and saw Rapscallion looking up at him from the floor, rather disgruntled at not being allowed to settle on Tore's stomach. "You ball of lard. That's it; I'm cutting your food."<p>

"Don't do it too much," Charisa's voice came from somewhere out of sight. "You can't starve him to death either. Not even for revenge."

"Oh I won't." Tore sighed as he reached down and stroked the cat's head. Immediately Rapscallion did as he always did, and flipped over to present his broad stomach. "Not a chance, fur ball."

"Auntie 'Risa's making dinner!" Dare appeared around the edge of the couch, grinning.

Dinner… "How long have I been out?" Tore glanced up at the wall clock. It said it was already five. Well, five hours was certainly a nap.

"Long enough," Charisa appeared, a simple dark green apron over her blue outfit. "I figured you could use a real meal for dinner."

"What did you two do?" Tore sat up slowly. He was tired, but he felt a little better. Maybe he ought to take leave after all. He'd done nothing all week and he was this wiped?

"Played." Dare came over and crawled up on the couch.

"We went to the park, and he was all over the swings and the little slide," Charisa smiled. "We got ice cream, and then went and did your laundry. Which is now folded and put away. Dare showed me your drawers."

Oh that was great. Tore hadn't really folded anything in them in ages. "Thank you," he hugged Dare anyway.

"I helped," Dare grinned back.

"Well I appreciate it, from both of you."

Charisa's face colored slightly, but he couldn't decide if she was pleased or uncomfortable.

"Hey, Dare. Why don't you go play with the kitty in our room?" Tore suggested. "Kitty needs to play."

"Yeah!" Dare crawled back down and wrapped his arms around Rapscallion's belly, hauling him up in his arms without any warning.

The cat yowled once and then fell limp, shooting Tore a dejected look.

"Your fault, buddy," Tore grinned at the cat. "You need the exercise."

"Fat kitty," Dare giggled, dragging the cat away singing "Fat kitty! Fat kitty! Come and play!"

A small giggle came from Charisa. Tore turned around again. "That's better."

Charisa's mouth closed.

"Oh come on." Tore sighed and patted the couch next to him. "You can tell me what's wrong, can't you?"

Charisa hesitated, then came to sit down next to him. "Only if you don't tell anyone."

"Alchemist's honor."

"Dubious." Charisa didn't smile, even though it sounded like a joke. Instead she stared down at her hands. After a couple of minutes, Tore began to wonder if she was even going to speak. "Raul's been cheating on me."

Tore was on his feet before the light-headed spell hit and he wobbled. "That bastard! I'll—"

"Oh sit down." Charisa tugged on his sleeve enough to knock Tore off balance. He dropped back onto the couch. "Remember you promised. I just… I don't know what to do."

"You haven't killed him?" It seemed relatively simple to Tore. Even_ he_ hadn't ever cheated on a girl.

Charisa sighed. "The thought had crossed my mind," she admitted. "But I don't think that would help my career, or fix things."

Love was always too complicated. "Have you talked it out?" Tore suggested more calmly. "I mean, you're sure. He admitted to it?"

"He… he wouldn't deny it," Charisa replied softly. "Over and over I gave him the chance but yeah, when I forced the question he admitted it. He doesn't even seem to think there's anything wrong with having a girl waiting for him when he's away on business." Her hands balled into fists. "We had a fight, and we've talked since then but… but everything's wrong. He only sort-of apologized, and he won't say he'll stop. He even pretty much admitted it's been like this since we got together."

Forget punching the man. His spine was going to be ripped out through his nose. "Is there a reason he's cheating?" Tore was going to try, at least for the moment, to think objectively. He was very fond of Charisa, but he wasn't blind to her faults.

A tear ran down Charisa's cheek. "He just thinks it's okay to have a girl around for when we're not together. He doesn't like to be _lonely._" The last word had a bitter twist. "He thinks that letting me be here with my work means I owe him this much. And then… then he had the gall to accuse me of doing the same thing."

"With who?" Tore stared at her, stunned.

Her face had gone pink. "You. Ridiculous isn't it?"

No wonder she wasn't looking at him. Not that Tore hadn't had some interesting dreams about her… well, always. Really, if she had come to him, willing, even married… Tore couldn't honestly say he wouldn't have been tempted. But that wouldn't have happened. "He's an idiot."

Charisa sighed. "I just don't know what to do. I'd make this right if I could, but even if I moved to Creta, I don't think it would stop."

Tore tentatively put a hand on her shoulder – he didn't dare for an entire arm – and gave it a comforting squeeze. "You'll figure it out."

"If it doesn't end in… in divorce."

The word hung between them for several seconds.

"Has he asked for one?" Tore finally asked softly.

"No," Charisa shook her head, and her expression steeled. "But if he doesn't shape up and we can't work this out, I might have to."


	4. Chapter 4

**June 23****rd****, 1969**

There was nothing like the sound of machinery routing out, smoothing, or buffing auto-mail parts. Winry had a smile on her face as she turned off the cutting machine and stepped back, wiping her face with a clean handkerchief out of her pocket. Summer in Central might not be quite as hot as Resembool, but it was still warm.

"Having a good time?" Elicia stuck her head out of the Rockbell Auto-mail office and chuckled.

Winry turned. "Of course I am." This shop was as much home to her as anything could ever be; ever since she founded it in the wake of Ed and Al's initial disappearance; when she had lived alone in the apartment upstairs, dreaming and mourning what she felt would never be; and now she had so much more than she had dared to hope for, because she had gone and gotten it (and by it, she meant _him, them._) "And I might as well get some work done while waiting for our guests."

"I don't recall grandchildren counting as guests," Elicia said as she leaned against the doorframe. "Coran was born in your house."

"As I remember quite well," Winry smiled. She'd played midwife that day and helped deliver him herself. And now…he was bringing his girlfriend to Central. It was, ostensibly, a short few days vacation from work for them both. Winry had known the moment Coran called why he had really invited Gale to come to Central; he wanted to show her Rockbell Auto-mail and, Winry knew, she was probably the main attraction on this visit. At least from the way Coran spoke, Gale was a big admirer of hers. If the girl was as talented as her invented style of flush-screws implied,

Winry had a feeling they were going to get along fine. She was very curious to meet this young woman herself.

"Are you going to clean up before lunch?" Elicia asked curiously.

"You mean I can't go to lunch in coveralls and grease?" Winry teased.

"Sure you could, Granny. It's all in fashion in Rush Valley."

Winry turned and laughed. Her grandson stood in the doorway in nothing fancier than jeans and a clean white t-shirt. "Nice to know things haven't changed then."

She took in the young woman beside Coran – about the same height as her grandson, russet hair, in a just-above knee length burgundy skirt, cream top, and jean jacket. It was not unlike something Winry might have worn at that age.

Gale looked put together and sensible, though at the moment she was clearly holding in barely suppressed excitement as she looked around the shop.

Coran's arm was around his girlfriend's shoulders. "Granny, this is Gale Lockwood."

Winry smiled and – taking off her gloves – offered Gale a hand. "It's a pleasure to met you."

Gale took her hand in an eager grasp – equally firm grip. A smile spread across her face. It's…an honor Mrs. Ro… Elric!" She chuckled.

So this was what it was like to have admirers. Winry smiled. "Just call me Winry."

"Oh, sure." Gale nodded.

"Mind if I show her around the workshop?" Coran asked.

"Not at all," Winry smiled. "I'd like to get changed before we eat."

It turned out Winry had more than enough time to change. Gale was having a fantastic time looking around the shop, asking questions of the others who worked there, and exclaiming over the auto-mail designs, the machinery, even the layout of the place.

Winry had a feeling of nostalgia. She had the feeling she and Gale really did have as much in common as she had guessed from Coran's descriptions. "So are you ready to go?"

"If I can pry Gale out of here," Coran chuckled.

Gale shrugged casually. "It's an amazing workshop. I've never seen a set-up like it, not even in Rush Valley."

"And that's saying something," Winry chuckled, but she was pleased by the compliment.

They went just down the street to the nearest café, and sat outside on one of the sidewalk tables. The weather was lovely and Winry happily listened to Coran talk about life in Rush Valley, and their plans for this brief vacation – outside of drooling over her workshop.

"I've wanted to talk to you for a while," Winry admitted to Gale over dessert.

"Oh?" Gale looked surprised. "What about?"

"These." Winry pulled one of Gale's flush-head screws out of her pocket. "They're fantastic, and I'd like to make them standard on all Rockbell Auto-mail designs."

Coran's face split into a grin. Gale's mouth dropped to the ground. "Well I… I'd love that," Gale managed. "But I don't think I can make them that quickly."

"Oh I have a plan to meet the demand," Winry chuckled. "I'd like to make a business deal. There's a company here in Central from which we get all of the custom parts that aren't made right here in the workshop. He has the machinery to churn them out in larger numbers. I'd love it if we could make a deal where he would be able to manufacture your screw design. You'd keep the patent of course, and get a percentage of the profits."

It was a lucrative deal, Winry knew that full well, but the girl was inventive, and she deserved to get credit for her invention.

"Seriously?"

"You should do it," Coran grinned.

Gale straightened up then, and outwardly calmed. "I think it sounds like an interesting proposition, and I'm definitely interested, depending on the specifics of the contract."

Yep, just like her. _I knew I liked you._ "Then I'll see about having a contract drawn up that meets our mutual specifications," she smiled. "Though at some point I may also be interested in stealing _you_ away from my competition."

This time, Gale managed not to look completely thunderstruck. "I don't come cheap."

"That's for sure," Coran chuckled.

"Hey." She elbowed him sharply in the side.

Winry smiled. "That's all right. I wouldn't expect you to. But when you've finished your training period, I'd like to talk."

"Hold on a moment," Coran cut in.

Gale shot him a look. "Excuse me?"

Coran smiled and held up a hand. "Hey, hear me out! I just want to know what I'm going to do if my own Grandmother steals away my girlfriend."

"Move to Central I'd assume," Winry replied smugly.

Now it was Coran's turn for some jaw dropping. "Wait what? You mean it?"

There were days it was far too much fun being the boss of her own company. "Well who else is qualified to learn how to take over the family business?"

"You're serious."

"I never joke about auto-mail," Winry pointed out plainly, still smiling. "You'd have to learn how to run things, but the reports on your work are excellent, and I've been trying to figure out for years who would take over when I actually decide I'm done with the business end of things." Not that she would ever be under anyone else's authority. She loved making auto-mail, but being a mechanic was far different from being a businesswoman. "None of my children want the job. Oh, Ethan will certainly always be involved because of his work with auto-mail patients and his alchemical work in improving auto-mail, but he's got a medical practice to run. Your father has no interest in big business." That and she couldn't see Aldon uprooting from Resembool, or the company shifting back there as a primary point. It was just too Nationalized – and International on several contracts. The government contract was definitely a primary issue however.

"Well I, of course I'll work hard," Coran stammered. "Wow. Thank you."

Winry shrugged casually and nibbled her cheesecake. "You're welcome. I like to think I do have good ideas from time to time."

**June 25****th****, 1969**

Charisa gave up knocking on her father's door and just opened it and went inside. It wasn't going to be much of a family dinner with Niam away at a summer training program, but it was the first time her father had called and invited her to come over in a couple of months – half the time he made excuses or was actually not home. Or at least, she assumed from the calling. "Daddy?"

She took three steps in the door before she tripped over something on the floor. Curious she glanced down, then picked up the horribly bent and broken portable size bathroom scale. She looked up the stairs – which she guessed it had fallen down – and noticed a horrible broken chunk taken out of one of the good hardwood stairs. From upstairs she could hear grumbling. _Well, at least he's alive. _

Cautiously, Charisa went upstairs. "Daddy? I'm here!"

"In here," she finally got a response out of him.

Curious, Charisa poked her head into her parents' room.

The bet was littered with clothes, and her father's backside was sticking out of the closet. _Maybe he's finally decided he can go through Mom's things. _It had been months. This could be a good sign.

The room was piled with clothing all right, but it only took Charisa a moment to realize that almost none of it was her mother's. "Rearranging?" she asked.

"Nope," her father replied. "Just getting rid of a few things."

"But these are yours," Charisa pointed out, picking up a jacket off the pile that seemed to be the 'going' pile…since it was on the floor. She frowned. "This is… this is the suit you wore to my wedding." Why was it on the floor?

Breda's shoulder's shrugged. "Not much point in keeping old clothes that don't fit."

"This isn't old," Charisa objected, her heart sinking. "You've only worn it once. You could still get into it again." She understood the dent in the stairs now.

Her father paused in his rifling through the closet, but only for a moment. "So, where's Raul?" he changed the subject.

Charisa froze; the suit jacket glared accusingly up at her from its buttons as she clutched it. When Raul was in town, he came with her. "He had to get back to Creta for another business deal," she replied. _You know, so he could find someone willing to screw him four times a night. _Her throat constricted, and she dropped onto the bed. _No don't cry…don't…. damn it._

The silence finally made her father turn around. "Charisa! What's wrong?"

"You… you can't do this," she sniffled. Damn it! Were all the men in her life losing their minds?

Breda looked utterly perplexed. "I think I can clean out my closet if I want to."

"You can't just give up like this!" Charisa felt the words rip from her throat; from her heart. Who gave a damn about the tears. "Mom would be furious." Hell, she was furious! She'd tried to cut him a little slack the last few months. Her father was grieving; they all were. But she'd thought he'd mourn, and begin to move on faster. Instead he'd ….well not regressed exactly.

"Yes, well," her father cleared his throat. "That's not going to happen is it?"

Tears came faster. "So you're just giving up?"

"What's this really about, Charisa?" Her father's voice had taken on a flat, questioning tone that told her she was skating on cracked ice already. "You're not crying just because I can't fit into a suit."

Charisa broke. She flung herself into her father's arms and sobbed. His solid arms wrapped around her instinctively; a protective barrier between her and the rest of the world. "Oh, Daddy!"

Over the next twenty minutes, she managed to get the story out, breaking down more than once, but by the end of it she felt a lot better. Not about the situation, but at least it was out in the open. "And I… I don't know what to do," she admitted. "Or at least, I know what I ought to do, or I think I do, and then I get all confused again."

Her father patted her back as he had done when she was a little girl. His broad face held the oddest mix of sympathy and anger. "Love's like that," he replied finally. "But you don't have to blame yourself. No one's perfect, but you should expect loyalty from your own husband. I'm sorry Raul turned out to be such a louse."

"I wish you sounded more surprised," Charisa admitted. She still felt like such an idiot for being completely pulled in.

"Me too," Breda replied. "I guess I just know how men think too well."

"You never cheated," Charisa objected, then looked up sharply at her father. Had he?

"No, I didn't," he assured her. "But men don't stop noticing other women just because they're married. The temptation, the possibility, is always there, just like it is for women. Cheating makes about as much sense as falling in love does. Whatever you decide you want to do about it, you know I'll support your decision, sweetie."

"Thanks, Dad." Charisa hugged him tighter. She couldn't be mad at him anymore, even if she was mad. One frustrating male at a time. "I needed that."

**July 1****st****, 1969**

"So how does it look?" Tore asked Ethan and Ren as he sat on the examination table in their clinic.

Ethan tried not to grimace, but left it to Ren to answer.

"Well it hasn't gone active," Ren replied, removing her hand from his arm. "And we've cut the load another fifteen percent. I think another week or two and we'll have completely out of your system."

"It's damned persistent," Tore replied with a sigh. "It didn't take nearly this long with Dare, and it was actively hurting him."

"It hadn't had years it's had to build up in your system," Ren pointed out patiently, unwrapping the silk scarf from her arm. "It's amazing you haven't become ill before now considering. How are you feeling?"

Tore shrugged. "Tired."

"Just tired?" Ren asked skeptically.

"Isn't that enough?" Tore replied.

"What about light-headed?" Ethan cut to the point. "Nauseated?" He didn't have to ask about obvious things, like fever. They knew his temperature was normal.

"Well, sometimes," Tore admitted with obvious reluctance.

Ethan nodded. Despite reports of sleeping near-constantly, there were dark circles under Tore's eyes. Despite evidence that Tore was eating more than Lia had carrying twins, he was losing weight. The treatment, much as it did no real harm on its own, was certainly exhausting Tore's reserves. He couldn't keep this up too much longer. "I really think you need to consider different living accommodations. Just temporarily," he held up a hand when Tore glared at him. "At the moment, I won't suggest checking into the hospital. But you're in no condition to try caring for yourself and Dare, and it would be easier on you both."

Tore looked like he was going to continue objecting, but instead he just slumped. "There's no other choice?"

"Not if you want to continue treatment," said Ren.

"Fine. Where would you suggest?" Tore looked between them.

Ethan shrugged. "Really? You could just move back in with us for a couple of weeks. The guest room isn't occupied, and Mom spends a lot of time watching Dare anyway. He can play with the twins, and you can rest." Tore had already had to give up working over a week ago.

"And not have to worry about preparing meals," Ren added with a smile.

"That… sounds pretty good," Tore admitted. "All right, we'll do it. But the cat comes too."

"Well sure," Ethan grinned. "I'm sure the puppy would love to chase some of the chub off your cat."

**July 6****th****, 1969**

"Don't give me that look," Edward looked down at the cat purring violently against his ankles. "You can't have any." He took another forkful of fish and devoured it just to make the point.

Rapscallion looked indignant and kept purring and rubbing.

"He's gotten pretty good at begging, hasn't he?" Winry chuckled.

"Don't tell me you're a sucker for that face?" Edward looked skeptically across the table at his wife.

"Of course not," Winry smiled. "I'm not about to spoil anyone's diet."

"Then maybe you should stop cooking," Alphonse joked from the other side of the table. He and Ed had spent the morning sparring in the back yard.

"You're old enough to mind yourself," Winry retorted.

"Then pass the garlic bread my way," Ed chuckled. "I'll take what he doesn't need."

"Doesn't mean you need it either," Al laughed.

"You know it's all right to have leftovers," Lia pointed out as she wiped smashed vegetables off Eamon's face. **  
><strong>

The three-and-a-half year old made a face. "Mom!"

"Well don't splatter them everywhere," Lia replied patiently. "Lily doesn't smash her peas all over the place."

Lily, who was almost as neat at the moment as her brother was messy, giggled and took another bite. She was better with a spoon;, that was for sure.

"Eamon takes after you," Ed elbowed his son.

Ethan laughed. "Hey, when I was his age I was still learning how to work with ten fingers. Cut me some slack."

"Oh you were still making a mess when you were fifteen," Alyse's voice came from the entryway near the door.

Ed looked up. He hadn't heard the door open over the clatter and chatter. Alyse and Cal were standing in the hall looking amused. "You should have told us you were coming," Ed grinned. "You want to join us?"

"We just ate," Cal admitted. In his arms, Gloria giggled and struggled to get down when she saw Lily and Eamon and Dare all in their seats at the messy end of the table. "We came by to visit Tore. Is he awake?" He set Gloria down, and she toddled over towards the other little kids.

"He might be," Ethan replied. "He's up in bed. You can go on up if you want."

"All right, thanks." Cal turned to Alyse. "You want to come up now?"

"I think you should see if he wants visitors first," Alyse replied with a smile.

"Would you like something to drink?" Winry offered as she stood up to remove her empty plate. "Or to sit down?"

"Yes, please," Alyse chuckled as she did just that, coming over and joining them at the table. She lowered herself carefully into place. At nearly five months pregnant she wasn't huge – Ed would never dare use that word to describe Alyse, not if he wanted to live – but he wouldn't say she could have hid it either.

"How's it going?" Lia asked her conversationally, with a knowing smile.

Alyse sighed softly, but her smile stayed as one hand rested lightly on her belly. "Felt some flutters this morning. This one seems in a hurry to be noticed."

"Must be a boy," Winry chuckled.

"It could be a girl," Ed disagreed, smirking. "I'm pretty sure women like attention."

"Sure they do," Al grinned as he walked over and scooped his granddaughter up. Gloria giggled. "Don't you, lovely girl?"

In a little lavender dress, her curly hair in pig-tails, Gloria looked like a little doll to Ed. "Well of course she does," he smiled. "She's darling, and you spoil her."

"No more than I did my own daughter," Al laughed.

Alyse shook her head. "I beg to differ, and I bet Mom would too."

"If she was here," Al grinned. "And not working in the garden today."

"Hardly an excuse!"

Ed sat back and laced his hands behind his head. It was always good to be with family.

* * *

><p>Tore wasn't asleep. At least, he didn't think he was. He could feel the bed beneath him, and hear the muffled sounds of silverware and conversation coming up through the floor vent from downstairs. He just didn't have the energy to move and join them. That was okay, he knew Winry would bring him up something later. He hadn't been left wanting in the food department the last few days; that was for sure.<p>

He lay in the bed, heavy-lidded eyes closed, so far past bored he thought bored looked interesting. So Tore wasn't expecting the knock on his open door. "Who is it?" he grunted, without bothering to look.

"Well there's a fine greeting for your best pal," Cal chuckled.

Tore forced one eye open. Cal was grinning at him from the doorway. "Oh, hey."

"Wow, you really are beat." Cal's smile slipped a little as he came over and dropped onto the chair next to the bed. "We came by to see how you were doing. Alyse's downstairs. We figured you might not want everyone descending at once."

"There are only three and a half of you," Tore teased. Even exhausted he retained something pretending to be a sense of humor. He was glad he hadn't been entirely forgotten.

"But Gloria's got enough energy to be two," Cal pointed out.

"Which makes up for the fact that right now Alyse has the energy of half a person?" Tore countered.

Cal's mouth opened then closed again. A moment later he laughed. "Well, that's true. But don't put it to her that way."

"Oh I won't," Tore promised. He'd never accuse Alyse of being vain, but he knew she was particularly sensitive when she was expecting.

Cal smiled. "I appreciate it." Then it slipped again; he really had an up and down face today, Tore thought. "How _are _you doing? I can't get much of anything out of Ethan or Ren. Not details anyway."

"Concerned?" Tore grinned weakly. "I'm touched." He sighed, letting his eyes fall shut again. "I've never been so tired… in my life. I sleep, and eat, and sleep some more. I haven't moved farther than the bathroom in three days." Embarrassing to admit, but Tore now understood why Edward did not speak fondly of his treatment in Xing. Not this part of it anyway.

"Is it working?"

"It is," said Tore. "As long as I hold out… Ren thinks it will only be another treatment or two before I'm completely free." Free to live, to love, to not worry about this blasted curse on his family hurting anyone else, not ever again.

"What count as holding out?" Cal really sounded worried. At least to Tore, who could tell even when Cal was trying to hide it.

"Living," Tore quipped. "Remaining stable for the next two days."

"Have you been _un_stable?"  
>"A little." Another admission Tore would rather not have given, but lying took too much forethought. "I've passed out a couple of times. I get light-headed… headaches. Ethan tells me I'm anemic." He mustered the strength for a small shrug.<p>

"Shit." Cal shifted in the chair, and it squeaked. "At least it'll be worth it."

Tore was glad someone agreed with him. "I won't feel like I'm offering any woman broken goods and a compromise."

"Has Charisa been by?"

Damn it. Cal had to go there, didn't he? "No, she hasn't," Tore replied. "Though she did call."

"Well there's that." Cal's voice gave away nothing of his feelings on the subject.

"I don't blame her." He couldn't, not in this situation. "Raul said there was no reason for her to bother with the Elrics taking care of me."

"She told you that?"

"She did." _And I believe her. _Charisa had sounded rather upset about it. Though she could have been upset about something else. She was never happy when she called lately, no matter how much she tried to pretend things weren't terrible.

"You think her marriage is going to last?"

"Great topic for sick bed conversation." Tore could think of plenty of less depressing things to discuss… like road kill.

Cal sighed. "You know, if you'd made a move after the war—"

"I wouldn't have Dare, and I might well have spread this thing to more than one kid before I ever knew," Tore cut him off. "Forget what-ifs, okay? I made my decisions, and I've learned to live with them." Cause he hadn't had much choice. "From here, I look to the future."

He hadn't expected the chuckle. "Considering what looks likely, you're an optimistic son of a bitch."

A small smile quirked Tore's lips. He knew Cal didn't wish Charisa any grief. He was just cheering him up. "Am I? I have no idea what you're talking about."

* * *

><p><em>Tore wasn't expecting any more guests that evening, so he was rather startled when he heard someone moving around the room. He peeked open one eye, and sat up sharply. The woman in the room wasn't an Elric! Or at least, not anyone he knew in relation to them. She was… was… wait, he knew those eyes. The lovely woman in front of him –maybe only a handful of years older than he was now- was his mother. <em>Wow, she was hotter than I remember. _Funny, since he still had a picture. Somehow though, she had always seemed older than him. Now… _No wonder Dad couldn't keep away from her.

_She smiled, and Tore wondered if she could tell his thoughts. "You look just like him," she replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Well, maybe not exactly, but close enough." _

_ Tore blinked. He had to be hallucinating. _I'm asleep, I have to be. _"Mom?"_

_"Don't tell me you forgot me, Terrence," she reached out and took his hand. "I know better than that." _

_ "How are you here?" In the back of his mind, Tore remembered…Edward had told him something about alchemical induced dreams hadn't he? It had been clear, but at the moment it blurred, and he couldn't recall. Visitations… were they hallucinations or was this his mother? _

_ She didn't answer the question, just squeezed his fingers. "I'm so sorry, Terrence. I never meant for you to be put through any of this. I never wanted to leave you. Everything was supposed to be taken care of." Tears formed in her eyes. _

_ "Don't cry, Mom." Tore sat straighter. "I'm all right." He had certainly been better taken care of over the years than he had managed the year he had spent trying to find her before he'd been lucky enough to get caught picking Fullmetal's pocket.  
><em>

_"I know." She reached out and caressed his cheek. Her hands sure felt real. "Still, I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you. I would have liked to have met your friends, and been part of your growing up. I'd love to meet Dare." _

_ "Why can't you?"Another question that just made her smile sadly. A dream… right. He had to remember that. "Sorry. I shouldn't ask. I just… I'm amazed you're here." He hadn't had dreams this realistic much, if ever, and he hadn't dreamed about his mother in several years. "You'd like him, Mom. He's better behaved than I ever was."  
><em>

_"You were a good boy; rambunctious maybe." His mother chuckled. "But I always knew you'd grow up to be something special."  
><em>

_"I'm not special." Tore shook his head. "I'm lucky to have a job, and that my kid doesn't know enough about his mother's death to hate me." _

_ "It wasn't your fault," she replied softly. "Cecilia didn't kill herself because of you, Terrence."_

_ "Can it be Tore, please?" Terrence… he'd never liked Terrence. Yet he felt guilty when she looked sorry. "Sorry. I… I wish I knew how you knew that too. This is the weirdest realization of desires my brain has ever thrown at me. Of course you're telling me this. It's something I've always wanted to hear. To see you again I… I just… why now?" No, he didn't expect an answer. _

_ "Because this is the only time," she replied. It was a vague reply, but it was something. "You haven't ruined anyone's life, sweetheart. Though you've made a lot of them better. You've made use of your talent, and you're a good father to your son. I'm proud of you." In her eyes, Tore got the feeling she knew everything he had seen and done since the last time he had seen her… somehow. He just knew. She knew, and she still said these things. _Talk about wish fulfillment. _  
><em>

_Maybe he was on the verge of death… no, this felt wrong. At least, he thought it did. He was certainly asleep. He was in the guest room in the Elric's place. It was right here around him, looking all too real. "I'm glad, Mom. Lately I feel like so much is my fault."_

_ "We all stumble sometimes," his mother said. "We all make decisions we regret. But you're young, and you'll make it through this even though I didn't." A tear slid down her cheek. "You'll live, and Dare will live, even though I died. I'm just grateful you won't have to live with what I gave you, unknowing."_

_ She was blaming herself. Tore had gotten the stupid thing from her in the first place, but he'd never really thought about blaming his mother. "You didn't know. How could you? I was fine, and I'll be fine. Don't worry about me, okay?"_

_ "I won't now," she promised. "Not about this anyway," she added with a wink. "I can see you're holding up." _

_ This was totally bizarre. "Is Dad coming? Cecilia?" Talking to Cecilia would be totally bizarre, and awkward, and yet ever since he'd found out she killed herself, Tore had wanted nothing more than to talk to her, to apologize, to find out what had driven her to that point. _

_ His mother shook her head. "No. Just me." _

_ Tore wanted to ask why, but he knew he wouldn't get that answer either. The pattern was pretty clear already. What exactly _had_ Fullmetal told him about dreaming about relatives? "Can you stay long?"  
><em>

_"Time is pretty meaningless in dreams, isn't it?"  
><em>

_Okay, so that was true. He should just enjoy the chance while it was here instead of wasting time questioning it. He had the feeling he would never have this opportunity again. "All right. So is there anything you were waiting until I was older to tell me? Cause I think I'm about as ready as I'm ever going to get." _


	5. Chapter 5

**July 8****th****, 1969**

Ethan sat back, half-exhausted, and wiped his forehead with a cloth. "All right," he looked at Ren. "Take a look."

Sitting up – barely – on the bed, Tore looked between them with poorly hidden anxiety. He was braced upright only by stiff-armed stubbornness.

Ren placed her hand on his arm, and Ethan felt the subtle feeling of her sensing transmutation as he poured himself a glass of water, and another for Tore. Not that the other man noticed. He was staring at Ren.

Ethan drained the glass and refilled it, waiting. He was fairly certain they had gotten it all, but Ren would locate anything that remained. She was the best for determining if Tore was _clean._

"Well?" Tore asked after a couple of minutes.

"Will you relax?" Ren opened her eyes, and smiled. "Congratulations. We got it all."

Tore gave a huge sigh of relief, and collapsed backwards on the bed. He was grinning like an idiot. "Thank goodness."

Ethan couldn't help smiling too. He couldn't recall the last time he had heard quite so much joy and relief in such a short statement. "Now you just have to recover." Which would probably take a few more weeks, if not months, to do properly and completely; but Tore knew that already.

"I can do that," Tore retorted. "More sleep and food until you tell me I can work out again, right?"

"That's about the size of it," Ren chuckled, removing her hand. "You've been pretty badly depleted, but nothing that won't be fixed with time and careful recuperation."

"Good." Tore pushed himself up again, wobbly, but sitting. "Can you bring me Dare? I want to tell him I'm okay."

Ethan stood up. "Of course." They were both going to be okay, and that was what really mattered.

**July 12****th****, 1969**

Alyse did 'not' waddle up the stairs to the front of her townhouse. She refused to do that. Not yet anyway. If she had to look undignified, it could wait until later in her pregnancy. _Okay you,_ she sighed to the infant bouncing in her stomach, _Mommy's had enough gymnastics practice for one day. Can we save the athletics for primary school? _While she was normally grateful for the obvious evidence of her baby's good health, there were days when six months of baby got tiresome. This time, it had only taken a couple of weeks before she was already starting to tire. But then, this one was much more insistent on moving than Gloria had been. It never seemed to settle down. _Must be a boy._

Alyse turned the key and went inside. She paused on the landing, grateful for the wash of cooler air compared to the summer heat outside. With the lights off and fans going, the house might not be chilly, but it was definitely an improvement.

It was also surprisingly quiet given Alyse had expected Cal and Gloria to be home. He had promised to pick her up when he got off work. "Hello?"

A tiny giggle told her that they had to be home, but it was all she heard.

"All right, I know you're here." Alyse shook her head as she went up into the living room. "Just what game are you playing at Calvin Fischer?"

"The wooing game," Cal grinned as he met her at the very top of the stairs, with Gloria grinning in his arms. "Or am I not allowed to play that one anymore?"

"Depends on who you're after." Alyse couldn't help smiling as he kissed her warmly in greeting.

It was several seconds before he broke the kiss. "Only the most fetching female on the planet."

"And who might that be?"

"Not telling." Cal winked. "But she's standing in this room."

This was how Cal had managed to survive so long. Alyse smiled. "Then it can't be Gloria. You're holding her."

"As adorable as our baby girl is, I definitely have my eye on someone else," Cal agreed. "But that's why we went to the trouble of putting together the perfect evening."

"Isn't it cheating to have help?" Alyse teased.

"Not when help means you have to clean the kitchen twice," Cal shook his head, but he was still smiling.

The fact that he had cleaned it all once was a miracle in itself. "So what does this perfect evening entail?" she asked, now truly curious. Cal liked to spoil her, but life had been so busy lately. Today's late appointment was no exception.

"Well, while I finish up final preparations on dinner," Cal replied smoothly, "Everything you could possibly want for a nice hot shower is ready upstairs in our immaculately clean bathroom. After that, you will find that the entire week's laundry is folded and put away so you can find whatever you might desire to wear this evening, and now that the kitchen is no longer a disaster…. Again," he laughed, "Tonight's meal consists of homemade spinach and cheese ravioli, steamed vegetables, and roast leg of lamb."

She hadn't married a man… she'd married a god. "I love you."

"Well I hope so," Cal's grinned broadened as he pulled her closer. "Cause I'm crazy about you."

"Or just crazy." But she couldn't have asked for a better surprise today. To come home to a house that was clean, with no chores that needed doing.

"But crazy you can live with."

"Of course!" Alyse kissed him again. "I couldn't have asked for a better surprise."

"I hoped you'd say that." Cal loosened his grip and gave room for Gloria to give Alyse the hug she was trying so hard to reach out and give.

"There's my big girl," Alyse cuddled her daughter. "Did you help daddy with the chores?"

"Uh huh!" her year-and-a-half little girl beamed. "I hepped!"

"She learned to match socks," Cal said as he took Gloria back. "So why don't you go relax for a bit. You've got about half an hour before everything's ready."

Plenty of time to shower and change. "Is there anything you didn't do?"

"I haven't fed the cats yet," Cal admitted. "But I'm sure they'll insist before much longer. Don't worry about it, all right? Just enjoy yourself." His expression softened.

Alyse couldn't argue. She knew why he insisted. He knew how tired she really was, and with how busy they both were, he probably felt guilty that he wasn't better at keeping up with the house sometimes. "Thank you. I will. Everything's perfect."

* * *

><p>"No don't worry about it," Breda chuckled into the phone. "You and Denise have a good time at the party. That's what Friday nights are for isn't it?"<p>

"Thanks, Dad," Niam replied on the other end of the line. "I hate skipping out on family dinner night."

"Friends are important too," Breda assured him. "And they only get engaged once. We'll do dinner later."

"Great. All right, got to go!"

Breda hung up the phone. He didn't begrudge his son his life, and Travis was one of his oldest friends. That left him… alone for the night. Charisa had cancelled earlier, claiming work overload and a long-running meeting. The mess with Raul took up a lot of her time lately, but Breda understood that too.

So it was just him tonight. There was no point in cooking for himself, and the kids kept telling him he ought to get out more. Breda grabbed his keys and left the house. He didn't bother to take the car. There were places to eat only a few blocks away, including Therrigan's, a long time favorite.

Therrigan's was one of those warm, worn pubs with good wood, simple décor, and was almost as much restaurant as it was bar, like any good pub ought to be. Breda had never once had a complaint about anything they served in the decades since moving to Central. Besides, the owner, Bernard, had been a buddy almost as long.

As usual, Bernard was behind the counter when Breda came in. It was early enough that, despite being a Friday, the place wasn't too crowded yet. "Hey there," he smiled at Breda. "Haven't seen you in here on a Friday in a while."

"Didn't have plans," Breda replied with a smile and a shrug as he sidled up and took a stool. "What's the special tonight, Benny?"

Bernard chuckled, though there was a sympathetic look in his eye. "Steak and fries, or we've got a roast beef sandwich if you're looking for more of a snack."

"Well I never drink on an empty stomach," Breda snickered. "I'll take the steak and fries, with cheese melted on the fries if you still do that."

"Sure we do," Bernard assured him. "Even if we didn't, I think we could manage for you. The usual beer?"

"Of course." Sometimes it was nice to go somewhere where they still understood you.

**August 3****rd****, 1969 **

"Okay there buddy," Tore smiled as he finished getting Dare's wiggling feet into his pajamas. "Nice and clean and ready for bed."

"Don't wanna," Dare shook his head, but his droopy eyes said otherwise.

"Sure you do," Tore scooped him up and carried him into the bedroom. "You had a yummy dinner, and a story, and a bath. Now you get to sleep so you can wake up tomorrow and go play again."

Dare shook his head, but made no further argument as Tore tucked him into his crib. Soon, Tore noted, he was going to need to switch to a toddler bed. "Night, Daddy."

"Good night." Tore kissed his son's cheek and left the room so he could fall asleep.

Evenings home with Dare were never wasted, and the time after he went to bed meant that Dare got a surprising amount of stuff done now. It didn't take too long to clean up the kitchen. Tore was just glad he and Dare were both home again, and healthy.

Once he finished, he grabbed an alchemy book off the shelf and was half-way to the couch when the phone rang. "Hello? Tore here."

"Hey," a female voice sniffled on the other end of the line. "It's Charisa. I… can I come over?"

The book was momentarily forgotten. "Sure. What's wrong?" If Raul had done something else to her he was going to-

"I… I just want some company," Charisa admitted softly. "The divorce was finalized today."

For a moment, Tore thought his heart had stopped, or he was deaf. He had known the process had been going on but… "I'm…" No, he couldn't say he was sorry to hear it. He was sorry Charisa was miserable, but he couldn't be happier to see that bastard Raul go back to Creta and get out of Charisa's life for good. "Yeah, come on over okay? Dare's asleep."

"Thanks, Tore. I appreciate it."

"Anything for you," Tore replied, before he realized that might be taken badly. "Have you eaten anything?" he covered quickly.

"No." She really didn't sound good.

"Then I'll take care of that too. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"I'll be over soon."

As soon as he hung up the phone, Tore almost took his kitchen apart again figuring out what he could offer a distraught woman who probably wasn't hungry that she might actually accept. He didn't have ice cream (the only automatic fall back he could think of) but he had some leftover cheese cake, fresh strawberries, whipped cream, and the makings for sandwiches. That, and a bottle of red wine that he suspected might be welcome tonight.

The look on Charisa's face when he opened his door ten minutes later made him rethink his strategy. The wine might need to come first.

It was obvious that Charisa had been crying… a lot. Tore had rarely seen her out of sorts, but her eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks tear stained. She wore navy knit pants and a simple white button-down shirt. Obviously she had been at home when she called and not out somewhere. _She still looks amazing. _"Hey."

She smiled weakly. "Hey. Thanks for letting me come over."

"You know you're always welcome here," Tore insisted, closing the door behind her. "Besides," he smiled, "I could never say no to a woman in distress."

That got a weak chuckle. "So I've noticed."

Tore had to fight every urge to reach out and take her in his arms and hug her. She might let him comfort her, but not right at this moment. Her body language was too guarded for that. "So, you hungry?"

Charisa was looking at the food he'd pulled out on the counter. "The cheesecake looks good," she admitted after a moment. "And…the wine."

Yep, it was that serious. "Then please, let me serve you." Tore dared to give her hand a squeeze as he moved past her into the kitchen. "Sit down and relax, okay?" He'd get the full story he was sure, but not until she was ready to talk.

The cheesecake – and half the wine – was gone before that happened. One minute they were exchanging small talk about things at HQ and the Assembly, and the next tears were streaming down Charisa's face again.

"What's wrong?"

Charisa pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "I'm sorry. I just…"

"Don't apologize," Tore cut her off. "You've had it rough lately. Today was hard on you. You don't have to hide it."

Charisa looked up at him contemplatively for several seconds, then shocked Tore beyond words as she fell against him, her arms wrapping around his chest as she burst out in fresh sobs. "Oh I hate him!" she growled. "He was lying to me the whole time and I never noticed!"

"Sure you did," Tore soothed her fury and anguish as best he could. The first he was familiar with, the second concerned him. "That's why you ended it." Feeling slightly awkward, he put his arms around her shoulders in a comforting hug. He hadn't held her in his arms since the last time they made out when they were sixteen. Having her there felt completely strange to him now, but good… in ways he probably shouldn't admit.

Charisa shook her head. "Not soon enough. He… he's a bastard! No worse…. He, oh he told me…"

"What did he tell you?" Tore held her a little closer, concern growing. This was worse than he had been prepared for.

"His _secretary_…" Charisa's grip tightened. "She's p-pregnant. Raul's already _proposed _to her… before we were even finished!"

Raul Valentino was going to get his lungs ripped out through his back if Tore ever got a hold of him. Fury surged through Tore's veins. "You're right, he's a bastard," he replied, forcing himself to keep his cool… for her sake. "And the world's biggest idiot. No man in his right mind would ever willingly give you up." Not for anyone.

Charisa looked up at him with an odd expression he couldn't quite read. Had he overstepped his bounds? After all, as much as she might hate him in this moment, Charisa had spent a year married to the man, and had known him for years. "No man huh?"

"Yeah, well, obviously he's not much of one," Tore replied. Now was not the time to talk about their own past.

The look didn't leave her face. "Tore… why did you leave my wedding reception?"

She had to ask that question _now_? Apparently honesty was unavoidable. Tore sighed silently. "Because every time you smiled at Raul, or he smiled at you, I wanted to punch his face in and kick his ass." He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "I didn't think it would go over well with you or the other guests."

"And what did you when you left?" She asked more softly.

Well, what did he have to lose? At the worst she left the apartment and didn't speak to him for months… again. Tore no longer believed that it would be permanent. "I went to a bar and got so plastered Cal had to carry my ass home. Man was I hung-over the next morning."

"Why?"

He assumed that why referred to his getting drunk, not the hangover. "Because I hated him for winning you over," _and me for screwing up my chances,_ "but I didn't want to ruin your day, or your happiness. You were in love, and I didn't want to hurt that."

"Yeah, well, look where that got me." Charisa looked away from him, sitting up a little, but only to lean against his shoulder. Tore left one arm around her shoulders, but let the other one go to let her have her space. She didn't seem to want to move any further away though.

"Sometimes… we just don't know if something will work out until we try it." Tore had tried with Cecilia, and look what a disaster that had been? "I'm just sorry it didn't work out for you."

"You are?" He might have said he preferred men given the shock on her face.

"I told you," Tore replied, resisting the urge to push a red curl out of her eyes as it drooped there, tempting his fingers, "I wanted you to be happy."

Charisa picked up her glass and finished the last sip of wine in the bottom. "Right now, I'd settle for not being alone."

"So spend the night." The words came out before Tore had a moment to realize what he had just said.

"What?" She looked up at him with suspicion mingled with surprise.

Oh yeah, too much. "I mean… you're welcome to the couch, or my bed. I can take the couch. You don't have to go back to that empty place." _You don't have to lie there all night, thinking about him, and how he's not there, but on his way back to Creta and his slut fiancée. _

"Okay." A small smile crossed Charisa's lips after a moment. "The couch would be great."

Too bad that would mean he'd probably have to move himself off of it tonight, but Tore wasn't going to even hint at sharing either sleeping space. Charisa had come to him in her moment of need. Okay, so maybe none of her girl friends had been available, or picked up the phone. He might have been the last person she called… or he might have been the first. Right now, Tore didn't ask. He just gave her shoulders a squeeze, and smiled. "I'll pull out the spare pillow."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em> June 13, 2011. Finis! 50 stories, and counting! Next story starts next week, right on schedule. And, rest assured, the ideas haven't stopped coming yet.


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